


Nicotine

by thecuriositycore



Series: Break, Broke, Broken [1]
Category: Bravely Default (Video Game) & Related Fandoms
Genre: I can't think I'll add more tags later on, Loss of Control, Very little dialogue, asterisk overload, attacking friends, dark ringabel sort of, kinda sounds like a drug problem if you think too hard on it, minor mentions of selff harm sort of?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-12-01 20:24:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11494092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecuriositycore/pseuds/thecuriositycore
Summary: An asterisk is just concentrated magic. But every spell can go awry, and the Dark Knight asterisk is no exception.





	Nicotine

It wasn’t much, at first. Just a few issues using the Dark Knight asterisk. His friends didn’t like using it - and honestly he didn’t blame them. Darkness wasn’t a power that was easy to gain mastery over, and even less so was one you used when you’ve got any kind of strong bitterness or grudges. Ringabel himself had simply had ample time to turn that bitterness into strength, into the reason to keep control and not lose it.  
Besides, Tiz preferred the Monk, Agnes, the White Mage, and Edea, the Templar. Like her father. For reasons he’d rather not tell his friends - not yet, at least - he preferred the Dark Knight.

Asterisks themselves were strange things, though. Rumors of overuse damaging the mind, the body, rumors of them gaining a sentience in a manner after so long in ‘service’. Nobody believed it, of course, it was just _magic_ , advanced, concentrated magic charged into a stone. Not a mind itself. There was no proof besides.

When the troubles began, honestly he hadn’t thought of much in regards to the old rumors. Barely remembered them at all, in fact. To be completely truthful, his first thought was that the magic was wearing thin - after all, he _had_ technically been using the thing since Braev picked him up. The things were bound to lose their magicks at _some_ point, right?

But then, that didn’t quite explain why the issue was of him taking it _off_ , rather than putting it on. The magicks enveloped him easily enough, it was removing it that had been proving difficult lately. What was worse, he’d been developing a sensation of being _naked_ without it.  
Old urges from old personalities, he’d told himself. Old sensations from when he was Alternis, bleeding through his recently returned memories and onto him now, now that he was using the asterisk so regularly. That made sense. Alternis rarely took the thing off, after all.

“I know you haven’t been sleeping, Ringabel.” Tiz said to him one afternoon, as the previously-amnesiac man lounged in some usually empty corner of the Grandship’s deck. He understood the young man’s concern, but it left him feeling a tinge of irritation in the back of his mind. Once again attributing it to Alternis welling up, he shoved it away.

“Whatever do you mean? I’ve been sleeping as fine as I do any other night, Tiz.” The farmer boy rolled his eyes, and sat down next to him.

“You mean not at all? Don’t think I haven’t forgotten all those nights you paced the deck for hours when you thought I’d fallen asleep. I’m not as heavy a sleeper as you think, Ringabel.” Said man winced - right. Tiz was a farmer. Heavy sleeping was bad when you had to wake up at the first sign - or sound, rather - of danger. You'd lose your animals if you slept through any sign they needed aid.

“Just a few headaches, nothing to worry about.” Another unconvinced look, but Tiz didn’t push it. Clearly he didn’t believe his friend, but also could tell that he wasn’t going to get an answer.

“The girls are getting worried.” Tiz responded simply. Ringabel felt the urge to respond playfully, something about women and love that would probably have Edea slap him if she was here instead of Tiz, but something in him shoved that down too, and he responded instead with little more than a soft, contemplative noise, looking back out at the distant peaks of the continent they’d just left.

There was no more conversation after that, and Tiz, sensing that Ringabel perhaps wanted to be alone - it wasn’t too often he actually _was_ serious, regardless of if that ‘seriousness’ was accompanied by words or not, but Tiz was good at reading the mood, and clearly he thought Ringabel should be alone.

“Just try to get some sleep, okay?” Tiz called back after a moment. “The last thing we need is you falling unconscious in the middle of a fight.” The words were playful, but forced so. Tiz was worried, but what about? His asterisk issues?

He supposed he had to admit - the itch _was_ getting worse. The longer he spent without the Dark Knight asterisk, the more naked he felt, to the point where sleep wasn’t an option and he wandered the ship for hours trying to make it stop. Recently, though, he’d taken to simply sneaking the thing down to the ship’s bowels and culling some of the innumerable monsters that made the ships deeper workings home.

...That was a productive use of time, right? It made the itching go away, anyways, and as far as Ringabel was concerned, being able to sleep without feeling like he was covered in ants, after several hours fighting alone in the dark, was better than no sleep at all. It wasn’t as though they were any match for him, either.

A sigh, and Ringabel stood, following after the now-gone Tiz. It was late, and the sun was beginning to sink below the horizon. He really should get some sleep – it was getting concerning, now, the amount of rest he was forgoing in favor of fighting.  
But as he neared the bedroom he shared with Tiz, he felt his skin crawl, buzzing and suddenly feeling so _naked_. 

Perhaps an hour or two in the ships depths wouldn't hurt. Nothing more than some exercise before sleep, right?

**0o0o0o0**

The next morning found him already feeling strangely vulnerable, and Ringabel, used to the sensation at this point – or at least as much so as one  _could_ be – ignored it as he ate breakfast with his friends. It was a loud, boisterous thing, as it always seemed to be. Not always necessary, but it did wonders for everybody's mood to have at least one time of the day that was full of joy and laughter. 

As always Ringabel participated – making jokes, dodging attacks from Edea when he made one just a little too lewd. It didn't stop him from itching for a fight, though,  _something_ to justify settling into the armor again without seeming too strange, too worrisome.

Alternis was getting to him, he figured. The old personality was strong; he'd have to figure a new strategy to use, another asterisk that would be just as useful the the Dark Knight without making him feel so itchy and naked and  _vulnerable_ all the time.

At the very least, it went away when he slipped the asterisk on. If anything, he felt better than  _ever_ with it on, right and correct and  _safe_ and he found himself wishing the armor wasn't so obvious and clunky so that maybe he could sleep with the stuff on, get a full night's sleep for the first time in  _many_ . Perhaps he'd don the armor and have a nap in the cargo hold? Or the pilot's quarters; not many people went there unless they were looking for the pilot – for him, unless he'd set the ship on autopilot. Which he didn't usually; autopilot wasn't that reliable – it didn't always navigate the correct way. 

He wasn't surprised. The ship was  _old_ . It was a surprise that it had an autopilot in the first place, let alone one that still functioned at  _all_ .

The days passed fast enough; Ringabel had settled into his new schedule of sneaking into the bowels of the ship at night rather than sleeping, culling the beasts there before finally heading to sleep at an ungodly hour, knowing in the back of his head that the sound was probably waking Tiz every night. The looks the boy gave him at breakfast while everyone else joked around were proof of that.

He'd caught the other three talking once or twice, too – about him, no doubt. Well, he was fine. Apart from some sleeping issues, Ringabel was perfectly fine – he just had to appeal to 'Alternis' before he could rest.

“What's this about you staying up until the wee hours of the morning?” Edea charged over and hissed, followed by Tiz and Agnes. She didn't want to make a scene, and he silently thanked her for it.

“I'm having some sleeping trouble, but I found a way around it, nothing more.”

“By fighting in the hold until the middle of the night?” Tiz cried about as loud as he dared to. “Why not ask _us_ for help? We could have used the sleep spell, or made something with Salvemaker.” Ringabel winced.

“Call me paranoid but I'd rather have nothing to do with that particular asterisk.” He still didn't precisely recall the exact events, but he remembered more than enough to know that he _hated_ Qada with a passion, and _refused_ to go anywhere _near_ that accursed asterisk or anything that came out of it.  
The trio looked confused, but didn't push the subject. They'd met Qada, after all, and each had their asterisks they would never use.

“We still could have offered help. You are our friend, Ringabel.” Agnes chimed in, making him feel a bit guilty. He sighed.

“If it gets out of hand, I'll talk to you. But for now, it works. Besides,” He added, in a decidedly more cheery – if somewhat forced – tone of voice. “ _somebody_ needs to make sure those beasts in the hold don't overtake the ship. Why not me? Consider me the knight in shining armor, keeping our lovely ladies safe from harm.” Edea gave him a look, and Tiz laughed. The matter was forgotten, and Ringabel was thankful for it.

**0o0o0o0**

It wouldn't come off. He passed it off to the others as him simply wanting to be prepared, in case they were ambushed, and the others understood – if remaining a bit skeptical. Ringabel felt _fine_ in the armor, certainly- felt at safe and secure and _at home_ in the stuff, but being forced to wear it constantly might get a bit... irritating. He wasn't Alternis, and even then Alternis took his armor off _once_ in a while.

Maybe this was what happened when an asterisk got overused? But Braev had been using Templar for far longer than Alternis had been using Dark Knight, so why...? He supposed it didn't matter. What _did_ matter was that regardless of what he did, the asterisk remained affixed to him and the armor wouldn't move. Not _off_ him, at least.

He couldn't try too much, or pull too hard, though, because the others thought his remaining in armor to be intentional – he was thankful the helmet could be detached, so he could eat. Either way, the armor seemed to be good and stuck, so he tried to pay it no mind as they cleared the fire crystal of corruption.

Airy, surprisingly, seemed to be none the wiser of his current issues, honestly seemed more irritated that he was holding them up than anything even _beginning_ to resemble concern. Granted that he would've been more surprised if she _did_ show concern for his well-being, but still.

They had to set up camp after the crystal was restored. The fight had been long, but while Ringabel had found it a rush, found it exciting and exhilarating, his friends were not so invigorated as he was. They needed time to rest before they began the trek back to the Grandship, and everyone agreed that they ought to take a night to rest before heading out again; make sure everybody was well.

“Aren't you gonna take that off?” Edea remarked, jabbing him with the hilt of her sword once they'd all settled down and chosen spaces for themselves to rest. Edea was always adamant that the girls and boys have separate sleeping spaces. Ringabel, who was currently managing a campfire, scoffed, grinning.

“Am I not allowed to make sure my angel is safe at night?”

“I'd feel safer knowing you're not wandering around in the _dark_ wearing _black armor_.” She quipped, voice flat. “What if you turn a corner and I see a monster instead of _you_? I'm not gonna stop to ask why it's there, you know. I don't wanna attack a monster only to find _you_ at the end of my sword.” She sat down next to him, and he could _feel_ the mood changing. She was worried, and she was going to talk about it.

“As long as you give a second thought to attacking any armored individuals, I don't think I ought to worry about being ended by you, Edea.” Edea sighed, putting her sword down and giving him a concerned look.

“Ringabel, you haven't taken that armor off since we left the ship.” He drowned his irritation and responded instead with more false cheerfulness.

“You would have me leave you three defenseless? I make sure to rest once I've decided the area is safe.” This, she chuckled at, but it was hollow.

“You're starting to sound like Alternis.”

“Cold as the man acts, he does have very good ideas about keeping people safe. I would be loathe to not give the area a patrol or two before sleeping. We're not exactly at an inn, you know.” Before she could respond, he gave her a chastising look. “And shouldn't _you_ be going to bed too? You took a beating in that last fight. What was it you said about not wanting people to collapse in the middle of a battle~?” She stuck her tongue out at him, but got up, heading through the temple to where the girls had decided to rest.

As soon as she was out of sight, and as soon as he couldn't hear her walking anymore, Ringabel sighed. His skin was... itchy, and he wanted to try and get this damnable armor off. Sure, he felt great, and sure he wouldn't have to worry about being hurt if he was in armor all the time, but this was getting tiresome. And concerning.

Gently, he tugged on one of the arm guards. Usually, they came off easiest, detaching as soon as he desired them to come off. But this time, it remained tightly connected – if anything, it seemed tighter than usual. Ringabel gripped it tightly, making certain his grip was good – and yanked.

_Pain_ . Sharp and biting, as though he'd just tried to break his own arm. What on earth was  _that_ ? A few more yanks, each time followed by more stabbing pain, and he had to stop after a while for fear of waking everybody up. He didn't want them here, not right now. Not until he knew what was going on. 

A deep breath – long and slow and calming. Old tactics that Edea and Agnes had taught him when he still had so many nightmares – which still came but with much less intensity now – that helped him calm down and remind himself that he was in control, and that everything was fine. Again,he gripped the arm guard, and pulled – firmly, but not quickly. 

When he felt the skin beneath move in tandem with the armor, his heart started to race. Lifting the armor, he could feel his skin moving with it, being pulled upwards with the armor. As though it was  _attached_ . Another sharp yank was responded to with yet more pain, sharp and intense like he was simply tearing at his own skin, and the panic set in.

The armor was  _stuck_ to him. Ringabel gave a nervous glance at the helmet sitting innocently next to him, and in a fit of mixed panic and sudden anger he picked it up, taking it out to the entrance to the temple and throwing it with all his strength into the lava below. It didn't make the sudden anger go away, if anything he felt even more agitated. Watching the helmet sink down below the waves of molten stone wasn't making him feel better, and he went inside feeling just agitated as when he'd left.

A frustrated sigh, and he leaned against the stone walls of the temple entrance. He could feel skin and armor plates both shifting, and it made the anger and panic rush right back. How was he going to explain this to the others? Maybe... he'd fallen asleep in it? Yes, that would work. He'd already told Edea he meant to keep watch, they'd believe the idea of him fallen asleep out here. As it was, they already thought him sleep-deprived. 

Willing his heart to stop pounding so fast and so loud, he relaxed as much as he could manage, watching the dying embers of the campfire until he finally fell asleep.

** 0o0o0o0 **

Ringabel awoke to somebody kicking him in the side, and found himself jerking to life with a black bane ready to fire in one hand. 

“Woah there, it's just us.” Tiz said, hands raised calmingly in the air. Ringabel, feeling a bit sheepish when his mind finally registered his three friends – Edea being the one who'd kicked him in the side, looking none too please with him – let the dark energy fade away. 

“Let me guess.” Edea started, sounding simultaneously cheerful and irritated. “You stayed up all night watching for those metaphorical monsters and fell asleep in the armor? I should have just dragged you to bed myself – and _dont!_ Say anything.” Ringabel grinned at the way shed ended her accusation, giving her a look that made her groan.

“Come on, casanova, we have to get to the next Crystal.” He hefted himself up – feeling remarkably calm now despite his... current issues. Maybe all he'd needed was a good sleep? A silent urging for the asterisk to remove itself from his person got him nothing, and if he could judge by the way the armor felt as it shifted, it was still fused to his flesh. He'd have to deal with it later, once they got back to the ship, perhaps. Or maybe one all this business was done and over with – who knew how long he'd have this issue for? 

Best not to worry anyone.

Ringabel found himself fighting better than usual as they began the trek back to Grandship. His attacks seemed to cause more damage, and in one instance he ended a fight with one hit, leaving his friends praising him for what they attributed to be all the extra training he'd more or less been doing. Perhaps they were right, but it didn't stop the fact that his armor was fused to him, which Ringabel had to wonder, was that part of the reason? Was he more powerful because of what was happening? 

As hey moved, Ringabel slowly became aware of a burning sensation. Arms, legs, chest,  _everywhere_ , burning as though there was a slow fire sitting in between the plates of armor and his skin. The only thing that seemed to make it go away was fighting – either that or the adrenaline of battle made him forget the sensation.  
Either way, he found himself throwing himself into battle – not looking for a fight, exactly, but certainly not backing down from one. He heard his friends remark a few times that he was being a bit rough, and he apologized – trying desperately to hold himself back while still fighting enough to make the burning go away. 

Perhaps it was the armor. If it was attached to his skin, Crystals only knew what it was truly doing to him.

The closer they got to the Grandship, the more agitated Ringabel found he was getting. His fighting was fantastic, and more often than not he was killing whatever beasts roamed near before they had a chance to be a threat; his friends were amazed, if a bit worried, but oddly enough their praise only made the agitation worse.

It wasn't Alternis creeping up, couldn't be. The only time he ever remembered feeling like this, was... back in Florem. Not with his friends, no,  _far_ further back than that. Back to sand-filled bellies and dirty water, stealing from even other orphans to survive because anyone,  _anyone_ was fair game when everyone would steal from  _you_ given half a chance.

Ringabel didn't even notice the static-y whispering in his ears until his friends started speaking – not to him, more to each other. But it still cut out the sounds, the hissing and whispering. Stray thoughts of how he clearly doesn't need them – he could go off on his own, kill all the monsters by himself and just lay a path for Agnes and the others to fix the crystals. He was the one doing all the work after all – at what point lately had they been a crucial part of a fight? With him as a Dark Knight, he had all the monsters down before they could do any damage to anyone. Just let them get a few hits in on him and they'd be dead before anyone could blink.

But his friends talking cut that noise off. He didn't  _think_ like that, did he? Maybe Alternis did on a bad day, but him? Never.

He could feel worried eyes on his back when he sighed frustratedly, but they didn't say anything – and that too made the anger worse. Ringabel was biting his own tongue in half keeping the rage bottled up, and he thought perhaps his friends could tell that for some reason, he was in a poor mood, because they quieted down and said nothing to him. Part of him desperately wished they would, but no. For the rest of the trek, no words were exchanged.

** 0o0o0o0 **

The moment they were on the ship, Ringabel went immediately into the hold. He suspected his friends figured he was blowing off steam from whatever had angered him, as they said nothing to him when he walked off towards the elevator, and said nothing still when he returned hours later – no less angry to his dismay. If anything he felt worse now than he had going down. But it was with a sigh and a frustrated growl that he took hold of the helm, lifting the ship off from where it floated in the recently-cleaned water and into the air where it belonged.

The burning had returned as soon as he'd left the ships hold, and Ringabel tried to ignore it in favor of directing the ship towards the distant pillar of light that he could see stabbing down into the ocean some ways away. It would be about a day's ride, if he kept at the helm, but the way he felt, he'd have to take at least one break, possibly two. 

He'd have to blow off steam again soon, otherwise he was afraid he's snap at his friends. As it was, he had to wonder if fighting – fun and exhilarating as it was – was even helping.

A twinge at his neck. Something burning like a dagger just barely breaking the skin, trailing upwards along his hairline. As soon as it hit his cheekbone, he finally let himself wince in pain, slapping a hand to it – and freezing. That wasn't skin. It burned like fire now that he touched it, and he was barely managing to keep quiet. 

It wasn't a strange cut that he was feeling, but somehow,  _metal_ . Some kind of organic metal creeping up his neck like he was slowly sinking into a slime beast – one that burned like fire-enchanted daggers. Ringabel felt more creeping up, could tell through the increasing pain that it wasn't his skin changing material so much as it was material growing  _over_ his skin, but in such a way that it was  _agonizing_ .

Finally he couldn't take it anymore, letting out a scream, barely managing to set the ship to standby as he crumpled onto the floor of the pilot's area. What he felt was strange – not that he could think much through the pain – was that he still felt so  _angry_ . Enraged, as much as if that damnable fairy had come by and killed all his friends all over again. 

Another yell of pain that was accompanied by rage, and a black bane shot at a chair near the door – which exploded right as the door briefly opened, before being slammed shut by whoever was on the other side, yelling in surprise. Something was yelled, a girl, anger – anger that reflected in his own as he let another black bane loose on the door itself, blowing it up and watching a trio of people scattering away.  
For some reason, it felt good. It also deadened the pain a bit. Muddled, confused, in pain, and needlessly angry, he screamed again from where he knelt on the floor – pain and rage mixed together, though what the rage was from he still had no idea –  _why_ was he so  _angry_ he didn't understand!

“Ringabel, calm down! What's wrong, what happened!?” Tiz. Worried Tiz who said he ought to sleep more, the girl probably Edea or Agnes. He'd attacked them. The part that scared him was that he wanted to do so again, desperately so. Somewhere between the rage and the pain was a desire to just _hurt_ them, if only to himself feel better in a way that meant the damn armor wasn't burning like fire for once.

Deep breathing. Deep breaths, calm down – the pain kept getting worse, and he anger wasn't going anywhere, but somehow he managed to get control of himself long enough to speak.

“Get _out_.” He hissed, feeling another black bane growing in his hands. “Get _out!_ ” There – that one sounded desperate, not angry. Maybe he'd get the idea, maybe he'd back off, get out before something bad happened.  
An angry yell, and the attack was loosed at the spot where Tiz previously had been before the young man darted backwards – or perhaps was pulled away. The rage pulled him under again and instead of friends he saw irritants, nuisances that had dragged him along in a mission he had no reason to go on. They _deserved_ to hurt, deserved pain after everything they'd done. Following that damn fairy along without a question, killing _everything_ in every world, they deserved _everything_ he gave them and more!

Somewhere deep inside he was grateful for his lack of sword as he tore off towards the doorway, towards where they'd gone. He had to get close if he wanted to  _really_ hurt them. 

A cura spell washed over him, and he hesitated for a moment, confused. Somebody else yelling, angry, what was he  _doing_ , they had tos top him. More anger. Further rage piling on top of what already existed, flashes of memory, other homeless kids attacking him, beating him senseless the moment he got hold of anything of value. Every time his friends said anything it just made him feel worse, every word digging like daggers.

** 0o0o0o0 **

“We need to keep him in there!” Yelled Edea, running inside, spitting taunts and flashy moves, distracting him – successfully. “Alternis should be showing up soon – you know he always does – if anyone can help us out here, it's him! Keep me healed until he shows his stupid face!” On her own, Edea knew she didn't hold much of a candle. But as a Templar, she could defend. And that was all that mattered; she didn't _need_ to win, just _survive_. Ringabel was using the Dark Knight, and regardless of what was happening to him, he _should_ still operate like one. 

That meant that the more damage he took, the worse his attacks would be. They'd all dabbled in White Mage once or twice, and Edea knew just enough white magic to keep Ringabel in health, so that way he wouldn't use Minus Strike on her

At least he wasn't armed.

Edea found herself increasingly worried and  _scared_ each time the maddened Ringabel paused, each time he tore at his own face when the black material crept further upwards, bubbling and spiking, and she could swear it looked like it was trying to form a helmet. Was this what he'd been trying to keep from them? How long had it been going on? And why on  _earth_ hadn't he  _told_ them?! Had he known what was going to happen, known that he'd go mad after a time? Maybe. Maybe not. He  _had_ yelled at Tiz to get out – not that that proved anything.

“What is going on?” Concerned yelling, an echoed voice she recognized without even seeing who it came from. “Edea, what are-!?” Alternis. _Finally_. He always showed up as the pillar stabbed into the ocean, always fought to stop them. This one wasn't hers, not technically, but it didn't matter. Alternis was Alternis, and as far as this one was concerned, she was his Edea. 

He didn't ask any questions, didn't say a word when he spied Ringabel at the other side of the room – currently occupied with tearing half his face open in an apparent bid to stop the black material from devouring more of his face. Alternis made a noise beneath his helmet, something between disturbed and concerned as he drew his blade from it's scabbard, silently urging Edea to back off. She backed away, but didn't leave the room. 

Tiz and Agnes, of course, stayed put where they were at the cabin's entrance, spitting white magic whenever it was needed, keeping all parties involved at good health. This was different from a fight with a crystal-beast. This wasn't just another powerful monster to kill. This was  _Ringabel_ .

“Are you prepared to die?” Alternis muttered, taking a fighting stance. Edea stormed towards him, face livid with anger.

“Don't you _dare_ kill him!” The armor-clad man turned to look at her – crystals only knew what his expression was beneath that helmet of his – remaining silent for a moment before speaking. 

“Do you have a Phoenix Down with you?” Edea, started, nodded. “Good. No matter what happens, _don't stop me_.” On the one hand, she didn't want to see Ringabel killed. She wanted to save him, if possible. On the other, different world or not, this was _Alternis_. He'd never been the bad guy, so she wanted to trust that he knew what he was doing. 

With a conflicted groan, she stepped back. 

“If you kill him I'll never forgive you.” Alternis looked down, paused for a moment, then nodded, facing back towards the maddened man.

** 0o0o0o0 **

Edea could barely watch the fight that ensued. Even without a weapon, Ringabel was holding his own, if crudely. He kept grabbing Alternis sword, tugging harshly at it, clearly trying to take it from the man – though she didn't know if he meant to kill himself, or simply use it against his opponent. As it was, he kept resorting to health-draining attacks, sometimes multiple times in a row – and as much as it would inconvenience Alternis, he never once stopped them from healing the man. If anything, he seemed to prefer it, given he went on the defensive after so many attacks on him.

To her dismay and fear, though, he seemed to be throwing the fight. Alternis would go in, hit Ringabel a few times, before acting as though he'd never fought a real battle before. It was like he was  _toying_ with Ringabel, which considering the man's current state, seemed like a horrible idea.

Back and forth they went, Alternis not even allowing a pause for Ringabel to tear at his own face, to tear at the black stuff still making it's way up him. That part scared her. What parts of his face were still skin were  _covered_ in cuts and blood, making him look like a beast himself. She wondered if Ringabel was having a hard time fighting – some of the black stuff had spiked up in such a way that it covered one of his eyes, and from the looks of things he was having trouble seeing through it.

“Alternis!” Ringabel had snatched the sword. Grabbed it, tugged harshly, tumbled away with the sword in his bloody hands. There was a pregnant pause, everyone in the room silent and still for several minutes before Ringabel yelled, Alternis crying for Edea to stay back and _trust him_ before she cried out in shock and fear. 

Straight through his abdomen. Agnes wore the white mage asterisk by now, and Edea could tell she wanted to throw all the healing magic she had over him, but he had a hand outstretched towards them, in a fashion that said to wait. Hold. Stay were they were, do  _nothing_ .

“Alternis, please...” White magic would only work up until a certain point – by that point, it took the serious stuff back in Eternia to bring somebody back from the brink. And from the look of the injury, they didn't have that much time.

“...See you... in _hell_.” A flash of dark energy – Edea barely had enough time to throw up a Rampart around herself before the attack came, exploding against her and leaving her blind for a second. When her vision cleared, she saw both men, limp and unmoving on the floor. To her relief, Alternis was still breathing. 

She didn't dare get too close to Ringabel, as guilty as it made her feel. She gestured to Agnes, who came as close as she dared before immediately casting a myriad of spells on him. Spells to close wounds, to heal bones, to knit flesh – everything in her arsenal. In regards to Ringabel, though... 

Edea could do nothing. She wanted to revive him, but what if he lost it again? Daring herself to be brave, she moved towards his unmoving body. The black on his face was... not progressing. It had stopped. This made her feel a bit better, a bit braver, and she tugged briefly at a chunk of armor – which, after a few more tugs, came loose. She held back a gasp at the scarred skin beneath – ripping the armor piece loose had caused it to bleed, but from the looks of things, it had been digging into his skin. Had this fight knocked it loose? Or was it the 'death'? 

Right. Ringabel should be on the edge, right now – she worked quickly, Tiz joining in after a moment. As they moved, the armor seemed to begin falling off of it's own accord. Once the Asterisk clattered to the floor – all the armor pieces crumbling away into nothingness – she kicked it away. It clunked against a far wall, and remained there as Edea channeled the Phoenix Down into the unmoving young man at her feet.

“What _happened_ to him...?” Tiz said, as Agnes darted over, gasping at the scars and crumbling black material that still clung, almost desperately, to his face and upper body, leaving him nearly naked except for the torn remnants of his old clothes.  
Apparently, she deemed Alternis stable enough to leave him be. If Edea could judge by the rough sounds of somebody getting up, she wagered Agnes was correct.

“It went... rampant.” Alternis groaned out. “Mgh. Out of control magic, feeding on his own.” Alternis knelt at Edea's side. He looked rough, but he was alive. He'd need rest, a lot of it – they'd halt their travels across the worlds for now, until everybody was in good health again. Airy could go get trapped in a jar or something as far as Edea cared right now.

“It... went wild? That can happen?” Tiz asked from her other side, monitoring Agnes as she worked. Alternis nodded.

“It is rare, but... possible. I've never seen it happen in the Dark Knight, but it makes sense. It requires a great deal of self-control. One slip, and you may drown. He may have slipped without knowing. You ought to destroy it.” 

“Oh trust me, if I have to sail this tub back to the fire temple to chuck that piece of stone into the lava myself, I will.” She sighed, and looked at Alternis. “Will he be okay?” The man looked at Ringabel for a moment, silent for entirely too long before speaking.

“...He should be. The scarring will last for a while, but it... _shouldn't_ be permanent. With proper treatment I would assume it should fade after a while, but he'll need more bed-rest than I.” 

“Speaking _of_ bedrest. You're not going _anywhere_ , mister. I don't care what anyone says, you're not leaving until you can breathe without sounding like your chest is full of _rocks_.” Ringabel chose that moment to groan, eyes fluttering open for a moment before falling shut again. “Oh thank heavens...” She sighed, Agnes pushing Edea's hands away when she went to touch him.

“He is not healed yet, and the wounds will be sensitive. Nobody is to touch him until they have all closed.” Airy complained above her shoulder, but a harsh look from the usually quiet girl shut her up, and drew a laugh from Edea. 

She stood, then, grabbing a wooden bucket as she moved carefully towards the seemingly innocent reddish-hued stone, using her foot to kick it inside. They'd have to make a trip back to the fire temple – powerful as the asterisk was, she didn't want to risk having it in their possession anymore. Not if what had just happened could happen again.

Ringabel would complain. She turned to look at him – nearly dead, clothes torn to shreds and scars blanketing his entire body. If it meant he was alive, alive and in control and  _healthy_ , she would endure it.

Maybe she'd force him to use the Templar asterisk one of these days. Something,  _anything_ related to light energy instead of dark. They'd have to change their strategy around, but that was fine. They'd been doing that the whole time they'd been travelling together. Maybe Praline's asterisk – she'd love to see how he fared as a singer; he'd always hated the idea of using it.

“Remind me to kick his _butt_ once he wakes up.” She spat, eliciting a gasp from Agnes. She yelled at Edea then, unaware that their patient was, more or less, awake. He hurt everywhere, but the anger was gone. The pain felt more natural now, easier to ignore with white magic rolling over him in waves. 

He let out another groan, but softer, and let himself fade out into unconsciousness to the sound of the trio yelling at each other over letting him rest. Yelling was good. At least that kind. It meant everybody was okay. 

People had been hurt, but nobody had died. This time, at least, everybody was alive and well.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Holy mother of god I know this is only like 6k words or so but fuck me this took so much time and effort to do. I haven't written something quite this long in forever, at least not this long in one go. Rosa Synesthesia is 7k or so and not even done yet.  
> I guess you could consider this a longer, better though-out version of 'How Far'. One of my friends gave me a good idea, and I ran with it, as I usually do. They're REALLY GOOD at ideas. 
> 
> I'm hoping this is received well, regardless of the lack of dialogue for most of the fic - it's the most effort I've put into a story for a long time now.
> 
> Still not eating when she should  
> TCC


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